I'm Not Scared
by 10Blue10
Summary: The Doctor ran from his approaching death for two hundred years. Surely, with all that time to consider the fact that he was going to die, with almost no way out except to run and run for as long as possible...surely he must have been afraid. The question is, would he admit it to anyone, even himself?


Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who

I'm Not Scared

"Hey old girl" the Doctor smiled up at the Time Rotor, "Where'd you wanna go today?" he asked cheerfully. The TARDIS whirred as if to say 'I don't mind' - or more likely, 'I'm taking you where you need to go'. He grinned as he inputted co-ordinates, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. In fact, it seemed forced, and almost a little manic. As soon as the TARDIS landed, the Doctor bounded outside – then promptly came back inside. "Let's not go here. There's a lake here, lakes are boring. Lakes are not cool" he rambled by way of explanation as he fired the engines up once more.

The TARDIS sighed mentally…so much for her plan. The Doctor was running from Lake Silencio and the fixed point in time that was his death. At first it seemed as if he was only ignoring that particular date, but as the years passed he began to avoid anything that reminded him of it even slightly. First he'd refused to land anywhere in Utah…then in America...then near any large lake…then any lake in general…

Her plan had been to land in a place with a lake, and then lock the Doctor out until he faced his fear; she would have to be more subtle next time. There were hundreds of times and places with a lake where the Doctor would _want_ to stick around, to help people as he always did – the TARDIS would simply have to land _close_ to a lake, but not right in front of it. That had truly been a ridiculous mistake.

They landed on a desert planet, with reddish brown grains piled in windswept mounds stretching out to the horizon. The Doctor had been very particular about inputting these co-ordinates. He peeked outside with far more caution than he usually displayed, and then grinned. "Ah, that's more like it! Nice, big, empty desert. No lakes in sight…right then! I've got a bottle of water, don't worry, I'm just going for a nice long walk" he told the TARDIS, patting the warm wood of the door.

He didn't so much walk as slip, stagger and stumble down the sandy slope. Fortunately there was some more level ground at the bottom; the Doctor readjusted his sunglasses and walked with his back to the sun, following the line of a nearby long dry ravine on his right. He'd shucked off his tweed jacket and donned one of those turban thingies with the cloth covering the back of his neck. Really, if it weren't for the shades, and the suspenders, and the trousers or boots, he could probably pass for Lawrence of Arabia.

As he walked, the Doctor looked around for a sign of anything interesting; the ruins of an ancient civilisation, or maybe a tomb – tombs were good, there might be traps, and there'd definitely be lots of old things to examine and fiddle with to possibly spring even more traps to escape from…oh, maybe he could go exploring a tomb with River. She was an archaeologist after all, she could translate some of the writing that explained how to avoid all the booby traps…although knowing River, if she knew he wanted to fiddle with and poke at all those interesting ancient artefacts, she'd probably kill-

With a gasp he pulled up short, and his vision tilted slightly. He blinked hard until the world righted itself, and took a swig of water from his bottle. It had a thermo-ring around the rim, meant to keep the bottle's contents cold in hot weather (and one didn't get much hotter than a desert) or hot in cold weather. The Doctor swallowed refreshingly icy water, and focused all his attention on the way light was reflected and refracted by the plastic, calculating the exact angles, anything to keep his mind off of – well, _that._

Deserts, he decided, were boring – deserts were not cool in every possible sense of the phrase. Well, there were only two, but still… he made his way back to the TARDIS, trying to think of somewhere else to go without lakes. Felspoon would be nice; there were a few mountain lakes but they were frozen, perfect for ice-skating, no chance of anything coming out of them…and if something did, it would be a great distraction – not that he _needed_ distracting from anything, no sir, he was completely, utterly fine.

/

 _It isn't fair_ the Doctor thought bitterly as he strode through an alien market place, surrounded by aliens of all kinds going about their lives. None of them had any idea about his death, and if they did, it was highly unlikely they would even care. He'd tried to stop a single rogue Dalek, and succeeded, but not before it had murdered five hundred people in the city where it had been revived after centuries lying dormant underground. _It isn't fair! I lose nearly everything, and it isn't fair!_

The Doctor had blamed himself at first, but gradually, all that guilt turned outwards and lashed out at the universe. He stalked into the TARDIS, slamming the door shut behind him. He materialised on a deserted planet, one with breathable air – he didn't even bother to look at the name. The Doctor stormed out, took a deep breath and yelled up at the sky, "It isn't _fair_! I am _done._ I've been doing _your_ dirty work for you for the past eight hundred years, and I have had _enough_!"

He didn't even know who he was shouting at – the universe, the Guardians – probably just empty blackness. There was nobody listening, but he kept going anyway. "I don't care if it's a fixed point, I am _not_ going to Lake Silencio…or maybe I will, just to spite you. What are you going to do when I'm gone? When the Time Lord race is completely extinct, who's going to fight your battles then?" he challenged, "After everything I have done, everything I've lost…this is my reward?

"You know, the last me got a bit clingy towards the end there, but he did have a point. I deserve more. _We_ deserve more. I will find a way out of this. I don't care how long it takes, I don't care what I have to do – I _will not die_!" he snarled, fists clenched, chest heaving. He could hear his heartbeats thudding in his ears, his skin prickled as the hairs stood on end…wasn't having a good shout supposed to make him feel better?

 _You do not have to, Time Lord_ a voice whispered, and the Doctor spun around, looking every which way for the source. _You should not have to_ the mysterious voice continued; it seemed as if it were coming from inside his head and every direction at once. Part of the Doctor's mind reflected that listening to strange, eerily familiar voices in one's head probably wasn't the best course of action to take. That part was swiftly silenced as the Doctor hesitantly inquired, "Who are you?"

 _I can help you. I can help save you_.

"…How?"

 _You only have to agree to do one thing, and you need not fear death…_

"I'm not scared...but err, since we're talking about it…what would I have to do?"

 _Your death is a fixed point…but if another fixed point were mended, the universe would be rebalanced, and the fixed point in Lake Silencio would be weakened_ the Voice explained. Even though the Doctor knew that wasn't how fixed points worked, he still felt tempted to ask, "Which fixed point needs mending?"

 _Vesuvius_ the Voice stated simply. For a moment the Doctor was confused; he knew that fixed point had come about, he'd…he'd caused it. He'd caused Vesuvius to erupt, and engulf Pompeii to preserve the timelines…oh, but he'd gone back. He'd saved Caecilius and his family from the pyroclastic flow…but that hadn't been enough to damage the fixed point, surely?

 _That family would have died, if not for your interference. Change the past, lure them back…what does one family matter, compared to the millions of others you could save, and keep saving, if you don't die at Lake Silencio?_

Could he say yes? _Would_ he say yes? For the first time, the Doctor questioned how far he was willing to go to avoid his date with destiny…was he really capable of sacrificing an innocent family, one that _he_ had saved from certain death, just to prolong his own life? Was he really that selfish and callous after a mere century alone?

Normally, he would have said 'no', to everything. Normally the Doctor would have ignored that voice, or challenged it, or threatened it…but something, the shard of ice within his hearts, a primal fight or flight impulse tempted him to say…

The door of the TARDIS behind him opened, spilling light out into the dark. Distracted, the Doctor moved towards the time machine and stepped inside. There was a flicker by the console and a hologram of Donna appeared. "Voice interface enabled" 'she' stated in a monotone. The Doctor sighed in irritation and moved to switch the interface off; the door swung shut behind him and locked with a click. He spun around and hurried back to the doors, tugging on them fruitlessly.

"Just someone".

He paused and looked back at the hologram of Donna. "Just someone" she repeated, "Please. Not the whole town. Just save someone".

" _You can't just leave them!"_

" _Don't you think I've done enough? History's back in place and everyone dies"._

" _You've got to go back. Doctor, I am telling you, take this thing back! It's not fair"._

" _No, it's not"._

" _But your own planet it_ burned _"._

" _That's just it. Don't you see, Donna? Can't you understand? If I could go back and save them, then I would. But I can't. I can never go back. I can't. I just can't, I can't"._

" _Just someone. Please. Not the whole town. Just save_ someone _"._

He swallowed as the flashback ended…he couldn't do it. He could _never_ do it. "I don't know who you are, or what you were planning" he murmured quietly, "but no. I can't…I won't agree".

There was no reply. Perhaps he'd imagined the whole thing. All the anger and temptation of before had drained out of him, and now the Doctor felt empty. Wordlessly, he walked with heavy feet up to the console. The Donna hologram switched off, and he put the TARDIS on autopilot in deep space before retreating into its depths.

/

Hours passed, then days, and then weeks. The Doctor barely left the TARDIS; he sat in the console room and brooded, or walked the halls in looping circles, listlessly moving as if his body was set to automatic. He didn't eat much, he barely smiled…the TARDIS thought it was bad before, but this was a thousand times worse. The Doctor wasn't getting enough sleep either…after one attempt, he'd woken up screaming from a nightmare, and avoided his bedroom ever since.

The TARDIS couldn't give him what he wanted, but she could give him what he needed. During one of his aimless wanders through her corridors, she led him to the console room and switched on the interface again – this time, however, it took the form of Wilfred Mott. The Doctor frowned and glumly asked, "Wilf? What about him?"

Of course there was no answer. "What are you trying to do, remind me of Donna? Don't you think I feel bad enough as it is?" he asked, starting to pace restlessly back and forth. "I failed Donna; I almost failed her twice. I nearly broke…that promise. If...if I was willing, even for a second, to lead innocent people to their deaths just to prolong my own life, then…then maybe I deserve to die" he sighed, leaning against the console with his head hanging low.

The TARDIS hummed, and the Wilf-hologram flickered. The Doctor glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, and it spoke. "Private Mott. Skinny little idiot, I was".

Another frown creased the Doctor's brow, one of confusion this time. The Wilf-hologram spoke again. "Yeah, you don't want to listen to an old man's tales, do you?"

Gradually, the Doctor began to put the pieces together. "Will that really help?" he wondered. The TARDIS hummed, and switched off the interface. The Doctor had to grab onto the console as the time machine took off without any of his input. "Wait- what about Donna? If I go to see Wilf, I might run into her. What if she sees you? She might start to remember" he worried.

They landed, and the Doctor cautiously peered out of the doors. They weren't on Donna's street, but in a sort of shopping plaza. For a moment he was confused – why had the TARDIS landed here? – But then he spotted Wilf coming out of a store and hesitated. The door began to close, forcing him to move out of the TARDIS, and then it locked. _What is it with you and locking your doors on me?_

Wilf was walking away; the Doctor knew the TARDIS wouldn't let him in unless he went through with this, so he hurried to intercept the other man. "Wilf!" he called as he caught up, and the elderly human paused, turning to look at him. "Oh, hello, were you calling for me?" he asked genially, looking at the Doctor as if he were a complete stranger.

Which he was, from Wilf's point of view – the Doctor had forgotten Wilf wouldn't recognise him. He opened his mouth to explain, but the words got stuck in his throat. Wilf looked confused, and a little bit sympathetic…then he looked closer, and his eyes widened as realisation dawned. "Oh, my word…"

"Wilf, it's"-

"It's you! Isn't it? You're the Doctor" he guessed. The Doctor nodded, and then had to ask, "How did you know?"

"Well, your eyes" Wilf nodded, gesturing to them, before his brow furrowed slightly in concern. "Mind you, you look a bit of a wreck, no offence. You're awfully pale".

"Yeah…um, are you busy? Because I, well, I came here to talk to you" the Doctor admitted sheepishly.

"No, I've got a bit of time yet before I have to meet Sylvia at the car. Come on, let's sit down on this bench over here" Wilf suggested. They sat down; the Doctor fidgeted a bit, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. He noticed Wilf staring at him. "Is something wrong?"

"No, why?"

"Well…you're sort of staring at me".

"Oh, sorry; it's just, you seem so different".

"I am different…but I'm still the Doctor".

"Well, I'm not denying that…so erm, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Oh, right…um…I have this friend, see, John. And err, there's something he has to do, and he – he's very nervous, but if he doesn't do it, a…a lot of people would be in danger. He…doesn't really know what to do".

Wilf looked thoughtful. "I see" he murmured, "What is it your friend has to do?"

"He...you were a soldier, weren't you?" the Doctor asked out of the blue. Wilf blinked in surprise at the sudden change of subject, but nevertheless he answered, "Yes, well, for a little bit anyway".

"Why did you sign up?"

"Well, I wanted to do my duty for King and Country...left it a bit late, mind you, but I didn't know that at the time".

"Weren't you scared?"

"Oh, I was terrified. Shaking in me socks, I was" Wilf nodded, "But I still went, in the end. You know why?" he asked. The Doctor shook his head. "I realised that if I didn't do my part, I'd never forgive myself. I'm very glad I survived, but I suppose I felt like, if I did die, at least I'd have died doing what I felt was the right thing" Wilf finished. He paused, reminiscing for a few moments, whilst the Doctor absorbed his words. "Does that help any?" he asked at last.

The Doctor nodded, and smiled wistfully. "Thank you, Wilf".

"You're welcome…do you mind if I give you some advice? For your friend, I mean".

"Sure".

"I think your friend should find someone he trusts and tell them how he feels. I think he'll feel much better afterwards" Wilf suggested. The Doctor nodded once more. "I'll let him know…I should be going".

"Yeah, so should I actually" Wilf realised, checking his watch. They both got to their feet, and faced one another. "Is Donna okay? Is she happy?" the Doctor inquired.

"She's doing well, her and Shaun both. That lottery ticket really helped them out…thank you".

"You're welcome"…the Doctor stepped forward and hugged Wilf, who blinked in surprise, but soon returned the hug. Then the Time Lord let him go, and gave him a final sad smile. "Goodbye, Wilf" he said simply, giving a mock salute and walking back to the TARDIS. Wilf watched him go, and didn't move until the TARDIS had dematerialised. "Good luck, Doctor" he murmured, before turning to head back to the car.

/

The Doctor actually wanted to take Wilf's advice, but he didn't know who to turn to. There were only three people who knew of his death, and two of them didn't know _he_ knew. The only person he could talk to about this was…was River. The now familiar tightening of his chest in fear occurred, as it did every time he thought of River Song; because thinking of River meant thinking of Lake Silencio, and…his death.

He sighed. Ignoring it hadn't worked, he couldn't get out of it without sacrificing his ideals…he didn't want to spend however long he had left avoiding things and hiding and running away. He wanted to spend his last years _living._ The Doctor set the co-ordinates for Storm Cage, and stepped out into the corridor when they had materialised.

River looked up from a book; not her diary, some sort of archaeological tome. She smiled at the sight of him, setting the book aside and rising from her bed. "Well, hello sweetie. This is a pleasant surprise…what's wrong?" she asked, dropping the flirty tone when she noticed how pale and run down the Doctor looked. He gave her a mirthless smile and unlocked her cell door. "I have something to tell you".

Curious, and concerned, River followed the Doctor into the TARDIS. Once they'd dematerialised, she inquired, "Doctor, what's the matter?"

Rather than answer, he beckoned for her to follow him. They walked through the corridors in silence, until they came to a small room, like a parlour, with a fireplace and a comfortable settee. Once both of them were seated, the Doctor gathered up his courage and looked River right in the eye. "River…I know why you're in prison. I know about Lake Silencio".

River raised an eyebrow, and inquired, "Isn't that a spoiler?"

"You tell me".

"…Okay, I'll play along. Why did you come to tell me that? Not that I don't like it when you visit" she assured him. The Doctor sighed, and stared down at his hands. This was more difficult than he thought. When he didn't speak for at least five minutes, River gently prompted, "Was that all you had to tell me?"

"No…I...I don't blame you, but you're the only person I can talk to about this…I…I'm…I'm scared" he finally admitted in a small voice. River bit her lip, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry" she offered, but he shook his head. "It's not your fault…well. It is, but..."

"I know" River interjected, "And if you don't mind my asking…what are you afraid of?"

"Dying…"

"Well, that's only natural sweetie. Everyone is afraid of dying…except Sontarons maybe" River mused. The Doctor's lips quirked slightly, but the moment of mirth was short-lived. "I'm not usually…I mean, I've looked death in the face hundreds of times. Thousands, even…and I'm scared every time. It's just, this time…"

"You have time to think about it" she finished for him. River was no stranger to peril, after all; she knew what it was like to toe the line between life and death, to feel the rush of adrenaline that came with mortal fear, the fear that never spiralled out of control because it was short-lived – either because you survived, or because you didn't.

"Yeah...but I, I know I have to…it's a fixed point, my death, and besides, I probably de"-

"Don't you dare" River warned suddenly, "Don't you _dare_ say you deserve it, because you don't" she insisted. Then her momentary indignation faded, and she held her arms out to him. Part of her expected him to shy away, or look uncomfortable…instead he shifted closer to her and laid his head on her chest. She stroked his hair and quietly asked him, "Why are you scared?"

There was a pause, and then the Doctor replied, "I'm scared it will end up being for nothing. I'm scared I'll be forgotten, or worse…remembered for all the wrong reasons. I'm scared because…I don't know what happens afterwards. If there's an afterlife, everyone I've killed or let die will be there…River, what do I do? How do I stop being scared? I don't like this".

"Oh, sweetie…I promise, it won't be for nothing, and you will never be forgotten. No matter what, I'll make sure of that. I'll make sure people remember you for the right reasons. As for an afterlife, well, I don't know…but I do know that you are loved, by so many people so much, whatever you tell yourself…and if there _is_ an afterlife, they will be there too.

"You can't stop being scared of something until it's over, and you realise it wasn't so bad. This isn't the sort of thing you can stop being scared of, but you don't have to let the fear rule you. You just have to let go of it…Doctor, it's okay to be scared".

Those were the words he needed to hear…the Doctor sniffled, and started to cry, from sheer relief and also exhaustion. He sobbed quietly into River's shoulder, and she held him close and whispered comforting words. At last he sat up, wiped his eyes and swallowed. "I…I feel a lot better".

"Any time, sweetie" River smiled.

"Wilf was right…"

"Hm?"

"Nothing...can um, can you stay? I don't think I want to be alone right now".

"For as long as you need, sweetie" River smiled, pulling him into her embrace once more, "For as long as you need".

/

A/N: This Wednesday I went to see the Doctor Who Symphonic Spectacular in Leeds with my mum, my best friend, and her mum. It. Was. EPIC! They're doing a UK tour, and then a US tour, so if you get the chance get a ticket. Trust me, you won't regret it.

The voice that spoke to the Doctor is open for interpretation. I didn't have a particular character or being or whatever in mind.


End file.
